


Kick the Dust

by scy



Category: Blood Ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scy/pseuds/scy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not every discussion is comfortable, but they can be necessary too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kick the Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to norwich36, and cereta, whose discussions of the episodes week to week are always interesting.

As he took careful steps, Mike thought about gathering enough air to tell Fitzroy they didn't need to move too fast; he was dizzy and a little nauseous, but he had to swallow back his discomfort to keep walking. He was leaning heavily against the vampire, and while he wasn't sure it was an actual truce, it was good enough to get him to his car.

After they got out of the sewers, Fitzroy was surprisingly intolerant of the fussing Vicki tried to do. He let her prod him several times and then he insisted that the drink he'd had was sufficient to tide him over, and that she didn't need to worry.

Vicki also checked Mike's bandage, but her fingers didn't rest on his neck for long and she was only checking, nothing about her touch was forgiving, she actually seemed more preoccupied, glancing from Mike to Fitzroy and then sitting back against the seat and staring out the window.

Mike had told both of them that he could drive, wasn't dizzy, and gotten ignored by Vicki and then Fitzroy. So he was sitting in the passenger seat as the vampire pulled up to the sidewalk in front of Vicki's building. He would have gotten out, but Vicki was already slamming her door, and Mike had to look over at the vampire.

"Let me walk you up," Fitzroy said, and although Vicki protested, he did something that bastard sons of kings learned from their nannies and got her inside, even over her objections.

When Fitzroy got back in the car, Mike shook his head. "Did she come at you for being overprotective?"

"She was more focused on worrying about the implications of what happened. And she had something to say about your health which could have been considered worry," Fitzroy said.

"Could have been?" Mike questioned.

"It was hard to tell; she'd dropped her keys and was a bit preoccupied with finding them." Fitzroy paused. "She was eager to get inside."

"You didn't offer to help?" Mike asked.

"I know better, Detective," Fitzroy said scornfully. He turned the key over in the ignition. "I'll take you home."

"You know where I live?" Mike asked.

"You're not the only one who knows how to investigate a potentially dangerous new acquaintance," Fitzroy said. "Perhaps I should have chosen your method of handling such things."

"Oh, I don't think so," Mike said seriously. "The police frown on vigilantism." Even when they had to utilize another agency because it was the only choice, nobody liked giving up their cases to someone else.

"They wouldn't approve of Mendoza, then," Fitzroy said.

"Not his methods, no."

"I suppose he told you that he was a man of the Church and therefore dedicated to the salvation of souls and the preservation of life."

"That's the story he gave me, yeah," Mike said.

"For someone who is a trained investigator, you need to brush up on your skills of detection," Fitzroy said.

"Thank you for that observation, I realized as much."

"It's merely advice for next time."

"You have a lot of enemies running around killing your old lovers?" Mike couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Would that surprise you?"

"No, as a matter of fact, it wouldn't."

Fitzroy guided the car slowly but confidently into a space parallel with the curb. "Should this happen again, you'll be more discerning about who you trust."

"I'll think about it," Mike said. He glanced at the clock and then at the vampire who had taken him home. "How are you going to get back to your apartment?"

"There a little time before sunrise, I thought I'd take a walk."

"And go bite some helpless woman on the way home?"

"I hadn't planned that far."

"I don't want to be called in to a fresh crime scene with your teeth marks all over the victim," Mike said.

"Don't worry, I won't be leaving anyone dead on the streets tonight," Fitzroy said as he got out of the car.

Mike looked at him for a long moment. "That wasn't reassuring, you know that."

"I've been told I need to work on it," Fitzroy agreed. "Until later, Detective," he added, and got out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition, put his hands in his pockets, and walked away.

Mike watched him disappear into the fading darkness and then headed inside his building.

Having a vampire bite was a good reason to call in to work, and luckily, Mike had a weekend in front of him to use for recovery purposes. He didn't actually feel that bad, but it wouldn't be easy to explain the teeth marks to a bunch of cops, and Crowley would suggest that he'd gotten himself in a bad spot while working on cold cases. The remarks had already become terse, he didn't need them to be any more pointed, and Kate couldn't keep telling their boss that he was covering all the angles. Not having a suspect was still an issue in the courts, and Crowley would pass that responsibility off on anyone she thought was slacking.

On Saturday, he stayed in bed for as long as he could stand, and when he got up, it was mid-morning. He considered calling Vicki, but on the drive back to her place she'd been wavering between anger and concern. He knew that she still hadn't forgiven him for what he'd let happen to her new partner, and by calling her, he would be violating the manual he knew Vicki operated by. She'd hang up on him the first few times and when she did pick up, he'd be opening himself up to be torn apart verbally. There was no question of going over to see her; if he was steady enough to haul himself across town, she'd punch him again. He'd still go and see her, but he knew he'd have to wait a few days and see how receptive she was going to be to listening to what he had to say. Some of it he could already guess, and it had to do with loyalty and what he'd broken with more than one individual.

Mendoza had been misleading about a lot of things, but Mike wondered about one thing; the man had claimed that Mike hadn't been killed when he found out about Fitzroy because the vampire trusted him. It sounded crazy, but those first few nights after learning the truth, and when he'd kept at Fitzroy and given him more than a few reasons to want to drain him dry, and nothing happened, he'd thought he was lucky. Then he figured that maybe by being beneath the notice of the bloodsucking bastard son of a king he could learn enough to stop him. Apparently, what he needed to do was fall in with the right man of the Church, and they would do the work for him. Even that was more twisted than into seem, like everything else about this whacked out musical business that Vicki had gotten into.

If Mendoza had been honest, who he said he was, and Henry completely at fault, Mike would have been able to walk away. But with Vicki involved, and the suspicion that not everything was as he'd thought it would be, he had to admit that not everything was as simple as he'd thought.

Fitzroy had trusted him. He'd let Mike live, not even seriously threatened him because he didn't think he needed to. Part of it was the protection that being close to Vicki gave him, but Mike wondered whether there was more to it than that.

He went to see the vampire that evening after reviewing his stack of cold case files and fingering the bandage covering the bite on his neck. Given all that had happened, there was no reason for him to be let into the apartment, and even less for Fitzroy not to do him some exceptional harm. Still, he had to try, if to at least see how long he had before he suffered mysterious blood loss or disappeared entirely.

Mike knocked on the door and waited. He looked at his watch; it was close to midnight, plenty of time for Fitzroy to be up and about, unless he wasn't taking visitors. After a few minutes, during which Mike debated turning around and forgetting the whole thing, the door opened and Fitzroy looked out at him.

"Detective Celluci," Fitzroy said flatly.

"Yeah."

"It's late."

"Isn't this the middle of the day for you?"

"Levity is not your forte. What do you want?" He eyed Mike. "Are you here to assault me?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then what is your intent?" Fitzroy hadn't opened the door far enough for Mike to see inside, but he could tell that the vampire was wearing a robe and looked tired.

"Did I interrupt your work?"

"If it's not you, it's Victoria, I've come to expect it. Now, what do you want?"

"To talk to you. Inside, if that's alright."

"You give your word that you will commit no violence inside my home," Fitzroy stipulated, and Mike couldn't blame him. Even if the guy could smash him into a wall, it was still a matter of damage that could be done first, and he'd shown that he would hurt Fitzroy if given the opportunity. And by issuing terms, Fitzroy could be telling Mike that he wasn't going to tear into him at the first opportunity, not without good reason. Mike took it to be a good sign.

"I do."

"Then come in." Fitzroy stood back and let Mike pass by him into the living room, the door shutting quietly behind him.

Fitzroy moved to take a seat on the couch, his movements smooth as usual, but as he sat down, Mike caught a hint of a wince, like something sore had been pulled, and he guessed that the vampire wasn't completely healed. There was no change in Fitzroy's expression when he was seated and he didn't draw attention to any discomfort he was in, so Mike didn't comment. An imperious wave of Fitzroy's hand gave him permission to sit, and Mike bet that he'd learned that particular gesture from one of his royal family members.

"So," Henry prompted, "you came here with a purpose."

"I wanted to talk to you. About what happened."

"You saw what took place, Detective. I was tortured and nearly killed."

"Vicki too," Mike reminded.

"And Mendoza was repaid for what he'd done," Fitzroy said.

"That's how you look at what you did?"

"He killed someone I was close to, hurt me, threatened Vicki, I think what I did was only a fraction of what he deserved."

"But he had his reasons," Mike argued, not agreeing with Mendoza, but wanting to know what Fitzroy thought of it, how he justified what he did every night and last evening in particular.

"A vendetta doesn't justify the kind of suffering he caused," Fitzroy retorted. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Detective, you acted with Mendoza, then you regretted your actions and helped to save me. I don't understand what you want of me now."

"Other than for you to leave Vicki alone?"

"I work with Vicki at her request and out of a concern for her well being."

"She didn't get into these situations until you came along," Mike said harshly.

"A demon was summoned in the city. If our paths hadn't crossed, hell would have been visited on Earth and you would likely be dead," Fitzroy said.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone though, could you? A truce to stop a demon, alright, I'll accept that, but you keep on going along with her."

"The demon is gone from this plane but its evil has not been eliminated entirely. It could still be called up by an ignorant mortal, and then the deaths would be in the thousands," Fitzroy explained, sounding impatient.

"That's why you're sticking around Vicki? Because you think that you two managed to stop a demon once and you can do it again, even if it might kill her."

"I assume you've tried to argue with Vicki before. Have you had any luck convincing her to veer off a course of action that she's chosen?" Fitzroy asked.

"Not at all," Mike said.

"So yes, she comes to me with cases that aren't inside the bounds of conventional law enforcement, and I help out."

"For a price?" Mike asked, not sure he wanted the answer, but needing to know.

"I don't get a salary from Nelson Investigations," Fitzroy said.

"What about blood? Vicki told me you bit her."

"Once," Fitzroy said shortly. "I asked, she offered."

"Since then you haven't done that again?" Mike demanded.

"You asked her already, I gather?" Fitzroy looked at him seriously.

"She hasn't been very open about what it is you two do when you're on the job together," Mike said.

"If she feels you don't need to know, then your ignorance on the subject isn't my business. I'm not going to come between you two as a bone to be picked up whenever you want a fight," Fitzroy said.

"Too bad, you already are."

"Vicki doesn't want to fight with me, Detective, and in spite of what you did, she would rather not be in conflict with you either." Fitzroy let out a long breath again, and Mike saw dark circles under his eyes. "For reasons that I don't want to examine at this moment, Vicki is very fond of you and that makes it difficult for her when you aren't talking."

"You know this, how?" Mike asked.

"I have been an observer of human nature for centuries, I have some expertise," Fitzroy informed Mike.

"In your expert opinion, what do you think should happen now?" Mike shot back.

"That depends on you, Detective. Are you going to continue on with this search for people I may have known, professionally or privately?"

"I might, if I get a tip that you were involved in their death," Mike said.

"In the meantime, you want to keep going about your life," Fitzroy said.

"Yeah, that's a given."

"And what do you feel should be done about the violence you did to me?" Fitzroy subjected Mike to an unblinking stare. "You wanted me dead, by whatever means Mendoza could devise."

"I thought you'd killed all those women, I still think you're a murderer."

"Have you ever fired your gun?"

"Yes."

"Then you made a choice. To live, at the cost of another life. I have done the same thing, and will do so again. For your sake, I hope that you don't place yourself in a position where my choices concern you."

With that being said, Mike still wanted to know if he needed to be digging out an underground shelter. "Do you plan on coming after me for what I did?"

"You mean, will I be coming by to see if you sleep with your windows open?"

"Yeah."

"It's an interesting question, but one that you don't need to consider right now," Fitzroy said.

"That's not really an ironclad negative," Mike said.

"It's best to anticipate change," Fitzroy advised.

"Something else you learned while you were wandering the world?"

"Advice from my father."

"Henry the eighth," Mike said. Some part of him still couldn't believe that the guy sitting across from him, the one who didn't look like he should be out of college, was a vampire who'd lived in the court of one of history's most infamous kings. "But you don't share his views on dealing with people who are giving you trouble?"

"Do you see a guillotine around here, Detective?" Fitzroy seemed offended by the insinuation.

"You carry your weapons with you," Mike said.

"Again, I say that you and I have that in common."

"I never thought I'd be hearing that from a guy who prefers the night shift."

"Change, Detective, may be unexpected, but it doesn't have to be unpleasant."

"More wisdom of the ages?"

"Some lessons I learned in my father's court still have their uses even in this age."

"When you talk like that you sound like a textbook."

"I could give lectures, they would be very useful for those willing to listen," Fitzroy said.

"And you do like hearing yourself talk," Mike said, unable to resist such an opening.

Fitzroy grimaced. "You can't help but be insulting. Is it a family trait or defense mechanism?"

"I don't have to be polite to the guy who bit me." Mike waved a hand at the bandage on his throat.

"Dramatics are not warranted," Fitzroy said and got up from his chair. He stood in front of Mike and looked at the dressing critically and then shook his head. "Take it off."

"Why?"

"I'd like to be certain it's healing properly, Detective. If you'd rather walk around so conspicuously wounded, don't let me prevent you."

"Nothing freaky," Mike warned.

"I know, you've used up your quota for the week," Fitzroy said absently, and waited as Mike gingerly pulled the tape off. As he lifted the gauze away, Fitzroy leaned in closer and sniffed.

"Excuse me?" Mike said. "I showered this morning."

"It's clotted," Fitzroy said.

"So it's healing up and everything's alright," Mike said.

"It would heal faster had I had a moment longer, but yes, you will heal without a disfiguring scar," Fitzroy said and returned to his seat.

"That's a weight off my mind." Mike replaced the bandage and sat back, his mind actually eased by the vampire's pronouncement. If the guy who'd given him the bite said it was going to be okay, he at least knew who to turn to if anything strange happened.

"Is there anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I assume you have duties to perform as a police officer," Fitzroy said.

"This is my weekend off. I'm resting."

"Your superiors allow that? In the middle of an investigation that is apparently not going as they'd like?"

"They'd rather the police force be prepared for everything and not burn out."

"More than you already have," Fitzroy suggested.

"Hey."

"If you keep on losing your suspects under questionable circumstance, someone will catch on that you're acting on information you've withheld."

"And do you think anyone will listen if I tell them who my sources are?"

"If they aren't presented with undeniable proof, they won't believe you," Fitzroy said.

"Since I don't expect you to come down to the station with me and give a statement, Javier Mendoza is going to be listed as a missing person, until they discover his body." Mike thought about the murder of Amy Davidson, and how Mendoza's death would be taken to be the work of the same killer. He would probably get reamed out by Crowley for not bringing the man in for questioning before he turned up dead. That experience was one he was going to try and avoid for as long as possible.

"They'll suspect someone else killed him," Fitzroy said.

"It's likely."

"The mortal who called up the demon would be a convenient scapegoat."

"He didn't kill Amy Davidson or Mendoza," Mike countered.

"It was only a possibility," Fitzroy said. "I'm sure the police department has to investigate something."

"Yeah, they'll appreciate the workload," Mike said sarcastically

Fitzroy didn't do his part to continue their reciprocal insults, and Mike thought he might just want to get back to what he'd been doing when Mike interrupted him.

"Was that it? You came to warn me off Vicki, and failing that, dissuade me from seeking redress for your actions."

"That's about it, yeah."

"I'm sure that you don't want to spend your weekend socializing with me, Detective," Fitzroy said, and it was a much politer way of getting rid of a guest than Mike had gotten the last time he'd been here.

As he reached the door, Mike stopped to ask, "Have you talked to her?"

"I've always seen the wisdom in letting a woman decide when to make her move," Fitzroy said.

"And this is one of those times?"

"Knowing Vicki, wouldn't you agree?"

Fitzroy nodded and sent him out the door.

Mike didn't know if he could trust Henry not to hurt people that couldn't be prosecuted, but that had been the only way to handle Mendoza. Mike wouldn't condone murder, but the other side wasn't acceptable either. He just needed to find a way to balance the two.

When he got a suspicious homicide, one that the police couldn't solve, didn't have explanations for, he put the word in to the medical examiner. Letting Vicki know through a third party was taking the easy way out, but he was trying to mend fences, not have to put up with someone more than he had to.

He came over a week or so after he met Vicki in the woods, and she conceded that she would be willing to hear another perspective on something she was investigating.

When he got to her office, he found Henry sitting on the couch, wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, like any other young guy who had just spend the night drinking coffee in net-cafe. The vampire glanced up when Mike came in but didn't sneer or do anything that Mike could reasonably object to. With his sleeves rolled up he looked like an art student, maybe doing research, but basically a guy who didn't know a thing about anything weirder than the biographies of reclusive artists.

"Here, we've got two other cases a couple years ago in the States," Vicki said, handing Mike a folder. "Somebody has been marrying and fleecing men across the country over the last couple months. The latest victim got in touch with me, he's the only one wants to find the woman who stole from him."

Mike accepted the folder, flipped it open and looked over the sheets of paper and what little was on them. "This is it?"

"There's not much to go on," Vicki said.

"What's he got?" Mike asked, motioning at Henry.

"He's been looking at the victims, trying to see if there's connection we haven't found yet," Vicki said.

"Like if he knows anyone who might be doing this." Mike was sure that there were monsters that seduced men and then looked to get something else out of them.

Vicki gave him a warning look. "Something like that."

"Alright, so you see anything familiar?" Mike asked.

"Not yet," Fitzroy said.

"Well, I'm going to take a walk and get the food," Vicki said.

"You don't want delivery?" Mike said.

"I need some air, see if I can work this one out on the way."

"Okay." Mike watched her slip on her coat and leave, glancing at Fitzroy, who didn't look up.

Mike turned the pages slowly, trying to pick out similarities or really any indication of a pattern that would give them a direction. As he did, he broached a subject he'd hadn't been sure he should mention the night they all crawled out of the sewers.

"Your friend, the one Mendoza had before she got to you-"

"Delphine," Fitzroy said.

"She's dead." When he didn't get a reaction, he went on, "there was a timer set, and when when we got there-" Mike didn't want to say that he'd seen someone get burned up like she'd been, there was no way to be polite about a thing like that.

Fitzroy got it though, followed Mike's explanation beyond what he didn't say and knew what had happened. "He left her to face her sentence, alone, and broken, and he thought she was at peace." From Fitzroy's mouth, there was nothing that could forgive Mendoza for what he'd done, and Mike knew that even a vampire had a line over which they wouldn't tolerate trespass. The torture and death of someone he cared about was plainly one of Fitzroy's borders, and it was one that Mike could empathize with, since it was one of the reasons for his distrust of the vampire. Not that he was going to say as much, and he moved on to something else that he'd been thinking about.

"I thought being bitten by a vampire was supposed to feel good."

"You mean, like in the movies," Fitzroy said, his feelings on how the film industry depicted vampires plain.

"Well, they're wrong, aren't they?" Mike rubbed his neck.

"Do you think someone would let themselves be bitten if they didn't enjoy it?"

"Women let you bite them, knowingly?" Mike couldn't believe that, not after his experience.

"The bite can be very stimulating," Fitzroy said, which was an evasion, Mike noticed.

"Then what, I got the simplest version?" Mike didn't want to feel insulted, but he did, a little bit.

"When you're starving, do you take your time?"

"That's not what we're talking about," Mike said, and didn't pause for Fitzroy's retort, so long as they were baiting each other he wasn't going to stop at thinking about being polite and just ask questions. "Can you have sex without biting someone?"

"If you knew a way to enhance the experience for both you and your partner, would you take advantage of it?" Fitzroy asked.

"Not if I thought it was going to hurt the other person."

"The pain is momentary, and I don't need to drain someone completely to be satisfy my appetite."

"So you say."

"Detective, I do know what it feels like from the other side."

"You let a vampire bite you?"

"Yes, as many times as she wanted."

"How could you sleep with her, knowing what she was?"

"Love, Detective, overlooks the differences between people. What someone is doesn't matter when you care about them."

"Is that what you're hoping for with Vicki?"

"You continue to insist on bringing her into these discussions, one might assume that you are overly paranoid about the possibility of something happening between us."

"They'd be right. I know what you can do, you're dangerous, Fitzroy."

"Only when I have to be. Most people find me very charming."

"Because they've had their minds messed with."

"Please, tear yourself away from these petty insults and give this matter your full attention. If we make progress then you can head back to your police station and impress them with your brilliance."

"It would take a lot more than just a couple of leads to convince my boss that I'm an indispensable asset," Mike said.

"This being the woman who you helped rescue from Magnus O'Connor?" Fitzroy asked.

"Yeah, Crowley."

"She doesn't appreciate you?"

"What she doesn't appreciate is the fact that she's got unsolved homicides piling up, no suspects, and a private investigator who keeps taking one of her detectives out of the station and off on wild chases that don't produce any new evidence," Mike snapped.

"Ah. You've had difficulty explaining yourself," Fitzroy said.

"It's hard to omit the truth from reports without someone catching on to the giant blanks I'm barely covering with b.s."

"Try being creative," Fitzroy said.

"Like what I said about my long weekend that ended in me having a bruise on my neck? It wasn't completely gone by Monday, Fitzroy."

"Had you been slightly more cooperative, or my hunger less severe, I could have made sure the bite faded in a shorter time."

"And you could have made sure I liked it?"

"You didn't feel any pleasure?" Fitzroy sounded curious.

"I had a vampire's teeth in my neck, what do you think?" Mike demanded.

Fitzroy put down the photographs he'd been scrutinizing and met Mike's gaze. "Tell me what you remember, think back."

"It's not something I want to reflect on."

"Humor me," Fitzroy said, and his voice rolled over Mike commandingly.

"I was trying to get between you and Vicki, protect her, and you bit me. I remember it hurting, a lot, and then Vicki yelling. The floor was cold."

"Nothing else?"

"No."

"You don't wake up in the night, aching, for no reason you can explain?"

"No, and what I do in my personal life is private."

"But is it satisfying?" Fitzroy wondered.

"I'm not going to answer that."

"I'm merely turning the inquiry around."

"And I'm not going to answer."

"Then there is what you're seeking, Detective. When you roll over and you find you're unable to sleep, knowing you're lacking something, that is where you remember."

"What? Do all you blood suckers take classes on how to speak in riddles? What does that even mean?"

"Your subconscious mind remembers what my bite was like, not just the pain that you focus on, but the pleasure."

"It didn't feel good."

"Some part of you thought it did, otherwise you wouldn't have bothered to ask me about it."

"Well, whatever the usual rules are, they don't apply to me," Mike said.

"If you say so," Fitzroy said, his tone so far outside believing Mike that it was audible.

"I do. Now, did you find anything useful?"

"It seems that this woman has been choosing men for reasons other than merely their profession and income. They didn't live in the same area or work in similar fields, but all have lost someone. A child, sibling, parent, all within six months of them marrying the woman."

"That's it," Mike said. "She finds out about their families and somehow inserts herself into their lives." He considered several possible ways to do such a thing and offered one. "Check to see if they saw a grief counselor or something."

"That sounds like a good lead," Fitzroy said. He got off the couch and left the papers on the table.

"Where are you going?" Mike asked.

"This seems to be a completely normal case; not something that needs my input."

"Just like that?"

"Vicki didn't call me over here for dinner," Fitzroy said.

"No?"

Fitzroy smiled "I'm sure with a little effort, you can make an educated guess."

"You're sure."

"Good evening, Detective." Fitzroy said, doing that little abbreviated bow that could be insulting or not, depending on how it was performed. This time, Mike didn't feel like he was being told off, but he still didn't know what was being said. He thought that maybe, if he listened, it might work itself out.

"Night, Henry," Mike said and as the door closed behind the vampire, began to sort the information he had into a timeline and waited for Vicki to get back.


End file.
